Carynn's Intercultural Collaboration

In week 2 of this course, we had the opportunity to learn from Sanaz Fotouhi, the general manager of Asia Pacific Writers & Translators. The lecture was heavily based on discussion and in one of them, she asked about fears (forgive me if I got this wrong, my memory is not the best). I mentioned that I was afraid of not being 'Chinese' enough to write about Chinese inspired stories. I was scared that as someone who grew up in an English speaking household surrounded by American content, I would not be qualified to write about Asian stories. I would be told that I wasn't enough. Recently, I've noticed a surge of books published by people of colour, especially in the YA section. And as usual, we can't have nice things. While many of us are celebrating these marginalised authors, there are those that lurks in the shadow with their slimy tongues and nasty fingernails waiting to pounce. Here are some tweets I found where these authors speak of their experiences. ...

After a harsh and terrible journey into the depths of Bourdieu's habitus, I conclude that habitus is what makes you you. The aspects in life that shapes who you are. It affects the things you do, the things you know, and the way you see things. Therefore, it affects my writing. As a writer, my habitus plays a huge role in what I write. They say to write what you know, to draw from your own experiences so your story is more realistic. Growing up in Malaysia, a multicultural South East Asia country, defines what I know and what I am interested in. It dictates the way I see the world. Despite writing mostly fiction, the words I pour out reflect the words I consume. I could try extremely hard to erase my knowledge of my home country, but try as I may, my influences and perceptions are innate, and will seep through the filters. As mentioned before, habitus is affected by where I grew up in; the class, family, culture etc. Naturally, it establishes my creative process - how I write. Si...

With the flat of her knife, she crushes a few garlic cloves and peels the stubborn skins. She chops them with a steady beat, a rhythm, and scrapes them onto the side of a plate with the chopped broccoli, diced onions and all the other ingredients for the feast. It has been a while since she was back in her parent's kitchen cooking proper meals. but cooking to her, is like riding a bicycle. Once you learn, you never really forget. Her hands have not forgotten to slice, to chop, to fry, to stir. And her tongue has not forgotten the salty, the sour, the sweet, and the bitter. She starts out awkwardly, pulling open cabinets and drawers to look for the right utensils. There is only a small space for her to work with and she regrets not using her other kitchens from her temporary houses to its full potential. She couldn't remember turning on the oven in her house at Italy. Despite the space and her rusty skills, she is determined to cook the best meal. The fridge overflows with t...

Review Getting here by Henry Wei Leung The first sentence in Getting Here is around three lines long and has no commas. In fact, the story almost entirely ignores the use of commas and opts for run-on sentences instead. Some readers may have to read a few sentences several times to understand their meaning. This can be jarring at first, but over time, they begin to reflect the narrator’s personality. The run-on sentences fit well into the idea of the narrator questioning and reflecting on his past. We read his thoughts – raw and unfiltered. Through this stylistic choice, we understand the character even more despite the writing being hard to digest in the beginning. Similarly, the abundance of metaphors may require a line to be read twice or thrice. It can be said that the author uses too many metaphors and sentences that seem out of place, however, the majority of Getting Here is spent in the narrator’s mind. The author, Henry Wei Leung, uses such uncommon metaphors to...